


Bonds

by warrior_sif



Series: No Deal Timeline [6]
Category: Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Character Development, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt Jack, Hurt/Comfort, but important, right now there's no plans for the other newsies to make appearances, still not really the happy newsies fic i've been saying i'll write
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-26
Updated: 2018-02-16
Packaged: 2019-03-09 15:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,999
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13484313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/warrior_sif/pseuds/warrior_sif
Summary: Two years after the successful newsies strike, Katherine has chosen Jack and the newsies over her Pulitzer name and reputation.  Joseph Pulitzer is not pleased.  Not at all.Can be read as a stand-alone, but I recommend reading "No Deal" for background.





	1. Breaking

**Joseph Pulitzer**

Joseph Pulitzer sits at his desk, glaring at the cream envelope with ‘Mr. Pulitzer’ written on the top in neat and loopy cursive, wishing for all the world that his gaze could get intense enough to not only erupt the envelope in to flames, but all the problems associated with it as well. He doesn’t want to read it; to deal with the issues entailed inside. He knows what it will say. Knowing what it will say doesn’t make it any easier to actually read.

He would recognize his daughter’s handwriting anywhere. He’d searched far and low to find her the finest tutor money could hire and has fond memories of young Katherine sitting at his desk when she thought he hadn’t been looking, leaving long notes and pretend articles for him to read upon his return. She had taken quickly to writing and had spent long hours making sure her script was perfect, reminiscent of her mother’s own handwriting. 

Glancing at the clock and deciding he’s spent twenty minutes too many just staring at the darn letter, he finally plucks it from his desk and tears open the envelope to find Katherine’s typed letter inside. He doesn’t want to read it. He knows what it will say. That doesn’t stop him from feeling disappointment in the fact that what will likely be the last communication from his daughter is typed and not in her lovely handwriting.

 

_Father,_

_I’ve written and retyped this letter more times than I care to admit. I’ve wasted enough paper trying to concoct a proper response to your last letter that I might very well be solely responsible for the death of a tree. I feel more guilt at this possibility than at what I write to you next._

_First off, stop referring to Jack and the rest of the newsboys as ‘nothing gutter trash’. They are so much more than their appeared status and you would see that if you would just look.  Jack is an employed artist. Davey has been accepted to university. The boys work constantly at trying to advance themselves; clamoring for any book they can get their hands on, eager to learn any trade someone is willing to teach them. You’ve been in your position for years, not advancing professionally or personally. I will admit; however, that there is not much room for professional advancement when you run your own company._

_I’ve already rambled more than I wanted to, even in this infinite draft. I know what I have to say to you to ensure my future happiness. I also know that this statement will likely cause you pain and leave you very much alone, with just your snotty old business friends for seldom company. I’ve just got to get this over with, so here it is:_

_No._

_No, I will not stop stepping out with Jack. He makes me more happy than I’ve ever felt in my entire life. He feels more like family; even in the short two years I’ve known him, than you’ve felt since mother’s passing. If you cannot accept that his company makes me more happy than I have words to describe (one of his paintings would communicate my happiness much more poignantly, not that you would understand that form either), then I must excuse myself from the Pulitzer family, name, and reputation per your suggestion._

_I concede that I will miss you father. I miss when you would support me against mother’s wishes and wish you could continue to support me against your own._

_If you wish to be a part of my happy family, you will always be welcome. Unless you communicate otherwise, I will keep you up to date on my address._

_Katherine Plumber_

He knew this was coming. He knew this is what she would say. Yet a small glimmer of hope had remained in the back of his mind that she would return to him: to his home, to his embrace.

Joseph quickly refolds the letter and stashes it amongst the growing pile in the tray at the corner of his desk. They were mainly letters from appropriate suitors’ fathers, asking after Katherine and offering their son’s hand. There are a great many reputable names to be found in the pile; young men who he would love to tie in to his family and entrust the future of the Pulitzer empire to. But no, his daughter has decided than a gutter rat is better for her and is leaving him without an heir.

He refuses to support this extracurricular and her association with his lowest employees. For the past two years he’s idly sat and twiddled his thumbs waiting for her to bore of their company. This had worked against him. He should have acted sooner. She spends more time with them now than ever.

Joseph stops, not even realizing he has started pacing the length of his office. Glaring around at the empty space, he’s only reminded of his last couple meetings with Katherine, all of which had revolved around disagreements over that boy. That incorrigible Jack Kelly. If he dares to think back even further in time, he’d be reminded of her leaning against his desk with some of the other newsies; having just brought Governor Roosevelt in to seal their victory over him, her own father.

The room is filled with too many bad memories for him to stay. He grabs his coat off the coat rack and exits the room without a backwards glance. He needs out. He muses that maybe some fresh air will clear his head of memories of his daughter and all the work her breaking ties with him will entail. He’ll need to find a successor, start training them to run his newspaper when he’s no longer able. His lawyer should be contacted as well to write Katherine out of his will and arrange new people for his assets to be dispersed to. He feels bad leaving her with nothing, but she has made it plainly clear that this is what she’s chosen: not Pulitzer, but Kelly. He can’t let himself feel bad. She’s no longer his daughter. This is what she chose.

Rounding a corner towards The Sun, in the shadow of which hides his favorite deli, he hears a commotion coming from one of the dark alleyways. Yelling, the sound of fists meeting their mark, grunts of pain fill the air.  

Joseph prepares to cross the street, avoid the ruffians entirely, when he hears a feminine shout that he will always recognize. Katherine. Even with how their relationship, or lack thereof, stands, he can not abandon her to whatever is occurring and finds his gait accelerating as he turns back and beelines for the alley.  She will always be his daughter and he will always care for her.

He’s both displeased and pleased with the sight he finds. Katherine is cornered between the wall and a dumpster, blood dripping from a cut on her cheekbone and a rip torn halfway up her skirt. In front of her stand Jack Kelly, also looking worse for wear, as he fends off three large men, all of whom are reaching around the boy and making grabs for Katherine.

Joseph starts making his way in to the alley, prepared to pull his daughter out and away from the boys, his spine bristling when he hears the downright vulgar thing the three men are shouting at his little girl. He doesn’t know what exactly he’ll do if they turn to him, he was an army man dammit but a great many years have passed since then and he doesn’t know how well he’d be able to handle his own in this situation. Before he can further close the distance between himself and Katherine, two cops come racing down from the other end of the alley, waving their batons at all the men.

The cops catch two of the larger men off guard and swiftly get them on the ground, hands cuffed behind their back. They then make way for the third, and apparently, Kelly.

Joseph makes his way over to his daughter, who doesn’t seem to be much in distress from her own injuries, but more from the fact that Kelly is being forced to the ground and cuffed in front of her.

“Jack!” She’s screaming, pushing her way to kneel in from of the boy.

“Ace-“ Kelly starts to responds through winces as the cuffs are snapped behind his back, but the guard whacks the boy across the back of his head with his baton before he can get anymore out.

“Stop!” Katherine is protesting, “He was protecting me! What are you doing? Let him go!” She stands from her position in front of the dazed boy and puts herself face to face with the officer.

The officer makes a grab for Katherine, but Joseph pulls her out of his reach before he can lay a hand on her. “I would suggest you keep your hands off my daughter, officer.”

The cop looks up at him and from the look on his face instantly recognizes who he is speaking to, “Mr. Pulitzer, my apologies sir.”

From behind him, Katherine’s voice, “Father, they can’t take Jack, he was just protecting me.” She swerves around him to kneel in front of the shaking boy, still on his knees at their feet. “Jack.” She’s holding his face in her hands. “Jack, look at me. I’ll get you out, okay? Please don’t panic. Breathe.”

Pulitzer reaches down and grabs Katherine’s arm, successfully separating him from the boy. Giving the officer a look of disinterest, he asks, “Is there anything you can do officer?”

Katherine yanks her arm from his hold and is looking up at him, furiously wiping the tears from her eyes, her eyes clearly communicating that she knows he’s not actually trying.

The officer seems to understand and stutters, “No…I’s sorry Mr. Pulitzer. Street fighting is not allowed and I has to take ‘im in. No exception sir, sorry sir.” He never once looks to Katherine and Joseph tries to hide his smile.

“Well thank you officer. I’ll be taking Katherine here home now,” he reaches for Katherine’s arm once again to find she’s no longer where she had been standing, but once again kneeling in front of the boy.

“I’ll come get you Jack. Promise,” she’s crying as the officer yanks the boy to his feet and starts pulling him away. She then turns on him, eyes wide with fire, “You-!”

“Not here Kitty. If you wish to yell at me, you will do it once you’re cleaned up and in non-torn clothing,” he commands, once again grabbing for her arm.

Katherine’s crossing her arms over her chest, stealing glances down the alley at the boy being guided away, “You are not home anymore father. Your house is not my home. Or have you not stopped glaring at my letter long enough to read it yet?”

Joseph sighs. His daughter knows him well. “I have indeed read your letter Miss Plumber, but will you really deny me the chance to confirm your safety and continued good health?” He softly smiles.

~~~ 

Joseph watches as Katherine, now dressed in one of her old dresses, swats away the hand of the doctor attending to the cut on her cheek. “I’m fine Dr. Richardson. Please, you’ve done enough,” she pleads. Crossing her arms over her chest and slouching in the kitchen chair like a child, she mumbles, “Jack’s the one who needs it more.”

Dr. Richardson looks as if he’s about to dignify Katherine’s pouting with a response, so Joseph sends him a sharp glare warning him not to. He still softly pats Katherine’s shoulder on his way out and Joseph can’t miss the look of sympathy the elderly doctor sends her way.

Once the doctor is clear of the room, being guided out of the mansion by the butler, Katherine turns her glare back to him.

Trying to get ahead of whatever she’s bound to say, he tries to calmly say, “Katherine. He was doing something illegal. He got arrested. That’s how it works.”

“Doing something illegal?” She spits back at him. “Since when would you consider someone putting themselves between me and men trying – trying – you know what, it doesn’t matter what they wanted, but he was protecting me from them!” Tears are streaming down his daughter’s face now. “If that had been Darcy or Bill, you would have demanded the officer release them immediately. You wouldn’t have just stood there!”

“If you remember, I did-“

“No, that was not trying. That was a poor attempt at trying to pacify me,” she refutes. “And you know what? Every time some man or group of men try to come after me, Jack’s always the one who gets hurt.” She’s outright sobbing now.

Joseph reels a bit at the notion that men have made a habit of going after his daughter. “Every-“ 

“Yes father. Every time; as in this happened before. Some man gets it in his head that he should grab me on my way home from work and use me as blackmail to get money from you. And every time, Jack defends me and no matter how hurt he is, the first thing he _always_ asks me is if _I_ am okay. Are you so senile that you don’t believe me?”

“Katherine-“

She cuts him off yet again, “Of course you don’t believe me. You don’t _want_ to believe me.” She rises from her chair and starts reaching for her purse.

“Where are you going?” He asks, though he can guess her response.

Katherine turns back to glare at him, “Off to get Jack. I’m not leaving him there.”

Desperate to keep her from leaving, he calls, “Katherine, wait!” She stops but doesn’t turn to face him. “It’s late, the prison will be closed by the time you get there. Just stay here for the evening.” No response or movement. “Please.”

When Katherine does turn around, tears silently stream down her face. He wants nothing more than to pull his little girl in to a hug and wipe away the tears, but he knows that would not happily accepted right now.

“You’re right.” Katherine states and he pauses for a moment, shocked she would admit such a thing given their current status. The tears start coming faster and her face gets redder and more distraught, “I can’t just leave him there though!” It’s almost laughable how childish and whiney the statement sounds, but there is a desperation and weight behind it that are out of place.

Joseph gives his daughter a confused look. He knows she cares for the boy, for goodness sakes she cut ties with him for Kelly, but there is something more than caring in her worry. He would almost venture to say it is fear.

Katherine gives him a long look before walking back over to the table, throwing her purse down, and slumping back in the chair she’d vacated earlier. She tell him a story that is much less structured and more train of thought than has ever been typical of her, “Last time – we were just at the store getting food for a picnic – the man didn’t believe we were shopping together – and Jack picked up a satchel of apples – we were going to make a pie – and the man called in the officer from down the street to arrest Jack for stealing even though he put the apples right in the cart and we were going to buy them with everything else – the office slammed him down and put him in cuffs – it took me ages to prove we were shopping together and had the money to buy everything in out cart,” she glances up at him, realizing she’s rambled. “He was really only in the cuffs for a couple of minutes, but he had nightmares for weeks.” She sniffles and wipes her nose on her sleeve. “I still don’t know everything they did to him at the Refuge, but it still haunts him.” She looks down at her wrists, apparently fascinated by the fragile skin there, “Last time he was there, they left cuffs on him the whole time. They were so tight. He has scars from where they dug in…” she trails off, not once looking up at him.

Sympathy is most certainly not the right word to describe what he is feeling. He remembers visiting Snyder’s office during Kelly’s last stint in the Refuge. He’d just been there to try and maintain his relationship with Katherine by pretending to try and get the boy released. Snyder had revealed the boy to be locked in the closet within his office, “Oh yes, left him cuffed and locked him in that closet right there”, he’d bragged. He remember thinking the boy looked worse, closer to death (especially after Snyder had strangled the boy to the point he collapsed), than any of the prisoners of war he’d seen during his time in the army. He’d felt nothing, no reaction, except maybe a little pleasure at the sight of his kid enemy so soundly defeated.

“Katherine,” he softly asks through the tension apparent in the room.

“I’m not leaving him there,” is her clipped reply.

Joseph sighs, “If I call the mayor and see to it that he is released as soon as possible, will you remain here for the evening, where I know you’re safe?”

His daughter gives him a look of pure disbelief and he hopes she doesn’t think he doesn’t care about her safety. He can understand her mistrust otherwise.

“You can sit in my office during the phone call if you insist,” he appends, trying to not sound like he is pleading.

“Fine, but as soon as I get Jack back, we’re going home,” she concedes. He tries not to think about the fact that she just referred to her apartment as their shared home. She rises and starts making way for his office, where the phone of the house is located.

Joseph is slow to rise and follow his daughter. He can’t believe he’s doing this. He doesn’t want to believe he’s doing this. Once in his office, he finds Katherine seated on his desk, phone already in hand and held out to him.   He lazily grabs the thing and slumps in to his office chair, which doesn’t feel as comfortable as it typically does. He sums it up to the situation he’s got himself in.

_“Yes, Mr. Mayor, I apologize for calling so late in the evening,” he tries to keep his voice upbeat._

_“No, no, you’re fine,” he assures when the Mayor asks if he’s about to be blasted in his paper tomorrow._

_“This call is on an entirely different matter; I assure you. You see, my daughter, Katherine, was attacked by some men tonight – yes, just a scrape – and he friend who was protecting her was arrested along with the men attacking her,” He pauses to listen to the man on the other end apologize for such an error._

_“Yes, I’m sure it was just a grave misunderstanding. I asked the officer at the scene if there was anything he could do and he would not budge on his decision. I understand his position, of course,” he assures the Mayor while trying to ignore the glare Katherine is directing his way._

_“I was hoping you could have him released immediately,” he prompts the mayor._

_“Yes, yes, I understand,” he fends off the glare Katherine is sending his way, trying to ignore the tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “No, that is not necessary. It really isn’t. If you insist, how can I say no?” Really, he’d love to know how to say no._

_“Thank you for everything. Have a good evening,” he concludes, hanging up the phone to find an expectant Katherine staring down at him._

“They’re not releasing him, are they?” Katherine asks, the wavering in her voice giving her away. She brushes tears from her eyes with the edges of her sleeves, “I’m sorry father. You tried-“

“Katherine, come here, “ he softly asks, holding his hands out to her. She comes around the desk and places her hands in his. “Not tonight; too much of the staff has been sent home for them to spare someone. However, they are delivering him here first thing in the morning.”

A mixture of emotions pass over his daughter’s face and he’s sad to see that fear and sadness remain prominent. “Thank you father, really, I’m just worried for him.”

“It’s only one night Kitty; not even a whole day. I’m sure Mr. Kelly will be fine,” he tries to assure his daughter; bring her some peace even if he doesn’t care about the boy’s well-being.

Katherine gives him a look that he takes to mean she understands, but he’s still missing something. She doesn’t push the issue further.

“Now off to bed Kitty. I called the mayor, now it’s time for you to hold up your end of the deal,” he tries to tease.

She sadly smiles down at him, “I’m nearly twenty now father, don’t you think I’m a little old to be sent to bed?” She doesn’t give him time to respond. “I can’t guarantee I’ll get much sleep, but I will head off to my room. Good night father,” she calls over her shoulder as she starts making her way out of his office.

“Kitty,” he calls and she look over her shoulder at him. “I’ll call the Sun and let them know you wont be in tomorrow.”

“Jack too,” she amends with a frown and fresh tears. He can just make out her sniffles as she leaves his office, shutting the door behind her.

Joseph looks to the letter sitting on the corner of his desk, amongst all the others, where he’s discarded it that morning. Katherine may have chosen that boy over him and the Pulitzer name, but he can’t bring himself to stop caring for her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you're not super mad at me for writing from Pulitzer's POV :)
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, comments/suggestions/questions are appreciated and loved!
> 
> If you want to bug me/talk with me/suggest a fic/get semi-periodic fic updates you can find me at my tumblr: https://writing-instead-of-sleeping.tumblr.com


	2. Static

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm fairly sure this is the longest chapter I've ever written. 
> 
> Also, for those also following 'Living Nightmare', I expect the next chapter to be up in the next couple of days.

**Pulitzer**

Lounging in one of the plush green chairs of his front sitting room, Joseph Pulitzer is spending his early morning hours watching the sun slowly rise through the large glass window. It is not a sight he normally gets the time to appreciate, as his work normally has him out of the house and already closed off in his stuffy office by now. He had decided to forgo actually going to his office for the day. His staff can always reach him by phone if something truly needs his attention, but it is a weekday and the news has been slow lately, so he isn’t expecting any calls.

He takes a sip of his black coffee and wonders how long Katherine will wait before coming down the stairs to join him in staring out the window; her attention no doubt claimed by the front path and not the colorful sunrise. He can hear her rustling around in her room; has been hearing her do so all night for that matter. She was without a doubt worrying about that boy and he would be lying if he said that it didn’t at all disturb him that such a person would worry his daughter so.

Kelly seems to have a charm that draws in everyone he comes across and Joseph is determined to keep himself from suffering that effect. He recalls the conversation he had with the owner of The Sun just that morning, when he’d called to say Katherine and Mr. Kelly would not be in to work today.

 

_“Joe, how can I help you this fine morning?” His business friend had chimed from the other end of the line._

_“I can’t call just to say good morning to an old friend?” He had asked, bemused._

_A hearty laugh had echoed on the receiver, “You never call just for pleasantries and idle conversation Joe.”_

_He’d reluctantly accepted that was truthful and something he ought to change if Katherine really is determined to choose Kelly over him. “Well, I guess you’re right, but I’m not calling in any favor or anything of that sort. Just letting you know that Katherine,” he had paused for a moment and sighed, not entirely ready to indulge Katherine’s wish that he excuse Kelly as well, but not ready to endure her wrath if he didn’t, “… and Mr. Kelly won’t be making it in to the office today.”_

_“That’s too bad. I know Katherine is working on an interesting research article and Elias is very fond of Jack.” After a moment of no response from Joseph, “Is everything all right?” His friend had asked a little too quickly, concern evident in his voice._

_Joseph had spent some time humming and wondering how much information he should pass on before confirming, “Yes, everything will be. They just had a run in with some hooligans and Katherine is a bit shaken up.” Yes, that was the right amount of information to pass along._

_“And Mr. Kelly? Is he all right as well? He didn’t get injured stepping in again did he?”_

_Stupefied that his friend knew more of Katherine’s troubles than he, her own father, did, he’d responded, “He has found himself in a bit of a situation, yes. They will both be back at work tomorrow.”_

_A moment of silence from the other end of the line. “Did you not know Joseph?”_

_“Know what?” Joseph had growled pointedly._

_“That this has been a recurring issue?” The man on the other end of the line carefully asks._

_“I … have recently been made aware,” Joseph had tried to tonally signal he no longer wished to discuss his parenting missteps._

_“Joseph,” the voice on the other end began carefully, “I thought my boy was exaggerating when he spoke of how strained your relationship with Katherine has become. Are you really willing to give up your only daughter, heck, your only family, over who she has chosen to step out with?”_

_He had growled at his friend, “You would do the same in my situation, I’m sure. I have to make sure-“_

_“Joseph. Join me in the 20 th century. Jack Kelly is fine young man, who you only dislike for the circumstances he was born in to. According to Elias, his editor, his drawings are the best we’ve got. I’ve got to agree; he’s got a natural talent. I commissioned a painting from him for my wife’s birthday this year and she adores it more than any gallery painting I’ve ever brought home. Like Katherine he’s never missed a day of work. And every time I’ve come across him, he’s been nothing but polite and pleasant. I dare say he’s a better measure of a man than any of the men in my office you’d claim appropriate for Katherine.”_

_He’d rolled his eyes. His friend has always leaned (more like fallen, he corrects) on the progressive side socially. “If you-“_

_“I understand, I’ve overstepped, but Jack Kelly is a good man Joseph and you would see that if you would stop seeing him as a caricature and instead as a person.”_

_No longer amused by his friend’s lecture on how he should run his own home and family, he had cut the phone call, “I’m sorry, Katherine is coming down the stairs and I must be going-“_

_“Yes, yes, I understand you’ve tired of my lecturing. Tell Katherine and Jack I wish them well and to not feel rushed back in to the office. We can manage without them until they’re ready.” With that the line had gone dead._

 

Nearly two hours later, Joseph is still trying to brush away his friend’s words. Katherine deserves better than Kelly. That is that. There’s nothing more to be discussed.

He’s pulled form his thoughts by the soft sounds of steps making their way down the staircase. Glancing behind him, he finds the source is his very disheveled daughter. Her eyes are hooded from lack of sleep and worry, her hair is hastily braided over one shoulder, and she’s wearing the same dress she’d changed it to yesterday evening. There is a small bruise around the red cut on her cheek that the doctor had tended to yesterday. It pains him to see it.

“There’s some fruit and some muffins in the kitchen, Kitty,” he slowly advises.

She doesn’t make a move for the kitchen and instead flops down on to the couch across from him, carefully folding her legs under her. “No…I don’t think I can stomach any food right now,” is her dreary response. She lays her arm across the back of the couch and rests her chin on it so her gaze is fixed out the window.

“I doubt they will be here any time soon Kitty; you have time to eat. I don’t expect that the morning shift arrives at the prison any earlier than eight,” he prompts.

He gets no response.

~~~ 

It’s nearly ten and Katherine has been pacing the floor in front of him for the past thirty minutes. The activity had initially been a welcome alternative to the statuesque vigil she’d been keeping at the window, but now it is driving him to insanity.

“Kitty dear-“ he cuts himself off as she pauses just long enough to send a glare his way.

“They should be here by now,” she whines and fiddles with the end of her frayed braid before continuing her pacing.

“If they are not here by lunch, then I will call and see what is taking so long.” His statement does nothing to hinder to her pacing. “Go distract yourself Kitty and they’ll be here before you know it. Go write. You used to say you wrote the best when you are all worked up.”

Katherine finally stops pacing to whine a little in discontent before giving one last gaze out the window and storming out of the room. Joseph's heart rate begins to settle again as the room returns to peace. He thinks he can hear the clacking of typewriter keys echoing from down the hall.

It must not be more than thirty minutes of peace later when a firm knock on the front door is resounding throughout the room. The clacking of typewriter keys from down the hall abruptly stops and as he rises from his seat to make his way to the door, Katherine nearly runs in to him. He motions for her to stay at the edge of the entrance hall as he goes to answer the door himself. She actually obeys, which shouldn’t surprise him, but it does.

He opens the door to find Kelly standing between what must be two prison guards and he gestures for them to join him in the entryway. They take a couple steps inside before forcing Kelly down to his knees; the painfully loud crack of his knees hitting the wooden floor echoing in the small entry.  Joseph takes a moment to look the boy over. He looks remarkably worse than when he last saw him yesterday, now sitting hunched over, unnaturally still, on the hardwood floor. For some reason he’s blindfolded and his arms are strained from the combination of how he’s hunched over and how his wrists are cuffed behind his back.

“What did you do to him?” Katherine asks accusingly from behind him. Joseph holds out his arm to block her advancement so that she goes no nearer to the large men still flanking either side of the boy.

The guards actually chuckle before the stouter one replies, “The fellas wanted ta say ‘ello. Then they wanted ta say goodbye."

“And we ‘eard from a reliable source tha’ he’s a bit of a escape artist,” the other one chuckles.

Joseph feels the hair on the back of his neck start to prick up at how nonchalant these two men are being with him. “You will uncuff him and leave my house immediately,” he forcefully commands, ready to have these men as far away from Katherine as possible.

“Got it boss,” the initial one speaks before pulling a key out of his pocket and uncuffing Kelly’s hands. Joseph carefully watches as the boy lets his arms fall to his side and doesn’t make any move – not even to remove the blindfold.  Seeing the boy so motionless and obviously shaken draws up feelings in him that he wishes he could ignore.

Joseph stares down the two men as they leave and as soon as the door is solidly between them and his family, Katherine is running out from behind him to kneel in front of Jack.

Joseph watches as she immediately goes to remove the blindfold from the boy’s face, but yanks her hand away as the boy flinches away from her touch.

Joseph stays, leaning up against the wall now, to watch the interaction between his daughter and Kelly.

“Jack,” she’s sweetly whispering while wringing her hands on her lap, “It’s Katherine; Ace. You’re safe now. I’m going to take off the blindfold, okay?”

It’s only when the boy stiffly nods, his first intentional movement since he was deposited on the floor, that she actually reaches up to gently tug off the blindfold before dropping it at her side.

The boy’s eyes wearily blink open to take in the sight of Katherine kneeling in front of him, widening a little bit when they travel to view the cut on her face. He tentatively lifts a hand to it, but doesn’t actually touch Katherine’s face. “Ace,” his voice is hoarse and shaky, “you okay?”

Katherine’s taking his hand and pulling it the rest of the way to her cheek before hastily replying, “You’re asking me that?” She tenderly smiles. “I should be asking you that.” The boy attempts something of a smile, but it doesn’t reach his eyes and apparently Katherine sees right through the façade as well. “Jack, are you hurt?” She’s taking his hands one at a time and looking at his wrists.

“ ‘S nothing Ace,” he whispers, his eyes dropping to the floor.

She returns her gaze to him and implores, heavily enunciating each word, “Jack. Where are you hurt?”

“ ‘S nothing,” he tries once again to wave off her concerns and starts pushing himself to his feet.

Katherine jumps to the boy’s side and wraps an arm around his back as he crumbles back down to the floor, still mumbling about how he’s fine.   When she removes her arm, her sleeve is stained red and she stares at it in shock, “Oh my god Jack,” she exclaims as she peers around to look at his back.

Joseph can even see the blood beginning to seep through the boy’s shirt from where he’s standing off to the side. He decides its time he take charge of the situation and orders, “Kitty, go call Dr. Richardson then clean yourself up. We will be in the kitchen.” His daughter takes a moment to glance between the boy and himself before jumping up and running towards his office.

He stalks over to boy, who is curled over himself in a position that Joseph can only assume is not helping with the pain. He reaches down to grab the boy by the shoulder and help him up, but the boy violently flinches away from him and looks up at him, eyes wide with fear.  Joseph pushes down the feeling of hurt he feels at the fact that the boy seems terrified of him.  He chalks it up to whatever occurred to him at the prison over the evening.

Joseph coughs, trying to clear the stickiness from his throat before attempting to reach out to the boy again.  “Mr. Kelly, we may have our differences, but I am not trying to hurt you. I just want to help you to somewhere more appropriate than my front entryway where the doctor can look you over,” he tries to relay peace and calm through his tone as he holds out a hand towards the boy.

Kelly looks at him, eyes not nearly as wide as they were before, and hesitantly takes his hand. He hisses with pain as Joseph helps pull him to his feet. The boy wavers in place for a moment before taking a couple unsteady steps towards Joseph and following him to the kitchen. Joseph notes that the boy stays just out of arm’s reach.

Once in the kitchen, Joseph pulls out one of the worn wooden chairs and turns it so that the back is facing the table. He steps away from the chair and motions the boy towards it. Kelly takes the hint and slowly straddles the chair before resting his head on the top of it and just breathing. Joseph then goes to fetch a glass of water and set it in front of the boy before taking a seat at the opposite end of the table.

Kelly blankly stares through the glass of water for entirely too long before finally reaching an arm around the back of the chair to shakily grab the cup and take small sips. The motion pulls up the edge of the boy’s sleeve and Joseph can see the scar Katherine had mentioned last night encircling his wrist there, now irritated and red. The irritation seems to travel up across the boy’s palm, between his thumb and first finger.

Soon enough, there is once again knocking at the front door, and Joseph rises to go and greet the doctor and bring him back towards the kitchen. When they return, he finds Katherine in a chair near Kelly, holding his hand, her eyes dark with concern. Dr. Richardson gently pushes around him to get to his patient and he returns to his seat at the far end of the small table.

“Jackie boy, what happened now?” The doctor tuts with concern as he arrives at the boy’s side.

“ ‘S Nothin,” Kelly mumbles.

“You tell me that every time I see you Jackie and every time it is most certainly not nothing. Do you really expect me to believe you this time, especially when I can see the blood soaking through your shirt?” The doctor doesn’t get a response. “Okay Jackie, shirt’s gonna have to come off.”

The boy looks down at his chest as if he’d forgotten a shirt was buttoned neatly across it. He shakily undoes the buttons, but when he flexes to pull the shirt off, the doctor intervenes.

“I can get it from here Jackie. That way you don’t have to move so much, okay?” The doctor asks.

The boy shakily nods and puts his arms at his sides so the doctor can slide the shirt off his shoulders and down his arms. Joseph can’t see the boy’s back from where he’s seated, but the doctor’s expression tells him enough.

“How many Jackie?” The doctor asks with a sad, pained look.

The boy cocks his head to the side for a moment and whispers so that Joseph can barely hear, “I think they said twenty, but I-I lost count.”

It’s then that Joseph truly understands the nature of the boy's injuries and he feels himself fill with unintentional rage over a boy he wants out of his and his daughter’s life. He would not condone such a pain upon anyone. It is the pinnacle of inhumane treatment and the idea that such a thing would happen in a modern prison system turns his stomach. He'll be making a call to the mayor about this later. Or he could force his hand and run an expose on the place…

By the time his vision is no longer red-tinted with anger and his thoughts have stopped churning with potential solutions, the doctor is well through a majority of the treatment and is preparing to wrap bandages around the boy’s torso. Through the slats in the chair back, Joseph can see older scars marring the boy’s body; remnants of his times in the Refuge, he imagines.

~~~

Late in the afternoon, after eating lunch and watching Katherine unsuccessfully try and get the boy to eat just about anything, Joseph is making his way up towards his office when he comes across his daughter and Kelly in the back sitting room. Kelly is stiffly seated on the couch in an old shirt of his and Katherine is propped up at the end, legs draped across the boy’s lap. Joseph hovers just outside the doorway to listen in on the pair’s conversation.

“I ain’t sleepin’ Ace, you know I ain’t,” Kelly tiredly insists.

Katherine reaches for one of the boy’s hands to pull it towards her and settle it, “Jack, you need sleep. You were up painting most of the night before last and I know you didn’t sleep last night-“

“I _can’t_ Ace. ‘Specially not here.” The room drowns in silence for a few moments and Joseph almost leaves before he hears, “You should get some sleep Ace, I can tell ya didn’t sleep a wink last night.”

“Of course I didn’t, I couldn’t stop-“

“Ace. Ya can’t do that.”

“Jack Kelly. You are always worrying after me and protecting me, don’t you dare say I don’t get to say the same for you.” Katherine softly insists, not raising her voice.

“You can sleep Ace. I’s here, so you don’t have to worry about me now,” Kelly gives in. “And I’ll still be here when ya wake up. Promise.”

A few hours later, Joseph returns to the back sitting room from his office to check in on things and finds the pair still on the couch. Katherine’s head is now resting on Kelly’s lap and, the blanket that was previously hung over the back of the couch now draped across her sleeping form.  She's got her arms wrapped around one of the boy's forearms; embracing him even in sleep. Kelly’s eyes are open, blankly staring at the opposite wall.

Joseph tries to quietly clear his throat. The boy’s head snaps to look at him and Joseph gestures that he should come. Kelly looks down at Katherine, as if he expects it to be for the last time, and finds a satin throw pillow to rest her head on in place of his lap and slowly pulls his arms from her embrace before stiffly standing and stalking over to where Joseph stands in the doorway.

Joseph leads the way up to his office and seats himself behind his desk. Kelly stiffly lowers himself in to the chair opposite him. Joseph doesn't miss how his eyes glaze over with pain at the motion.

“What can I do for ya Joe?” Kelly tries to joke, but his expression remains blank and any playfulness to his tone is drowned out by the hoarseness of his voice.

“Was it the guards or the other inmates?” Joseph bluntly asks, trying to not let the boy’s evident pain deter him.

Kelly remains silent for a moment, squeezing his left forearm with his right hand while gazing around the room. “Guards mostly,” he finally answers, confirming Joseph’s suspicions.

“Mostly?” He prompts, wanting to know the extent of what happened before he relays the events to the Mayor.

The boy has scrunched up his right hand now so that his nails are pressuring in to his left forearm, “Did- did you know that’s where Snyder is?” He asks, not looking up from the ground.

This was new information to Joseph, but he does not let it deter his questioning, “No. Did he participate?”

Still not looking up from the floor, the boy responds, “No. Not really. The guards were some of his old ones from the Refuge and they –“ the boy trails off in to silence.

“He was present?” Joseph attempts to confirm.

“Yeah, he was tellin’ ‘em what ta do,” the boy confirms before mumbling something under his breath.

“What was that?”

The boy finally looks up at him, eyes still glazed, “He wanted them ta use a knife, but then they found out I was leavin’…” he trails off once again, digging his nails in to his arm for a long period of time.

Joseph feels his eyes involuntarily widen at the implications leaving the boy’s mouth, and tries to suppress the expression before the boy can see it. “Jack,” the boy’s head snaps up to look at him, evidently perplexed at being addressed by his first name, “was this a common theme with your visits to the Refuge?”

The boy removes his gaze from him and instead focuses on the wall to their left and takes a moment before answering, “Not at the very beginning.” A moment of silence as he thinks, “It just sort of got worse the more times I was there.”

Joseph takes a moment to mull over the information. “And how many times-“

“Six.” The boy interrupts him. “I only did somethin’ wrong once though and I know it was wrong, but it was the middle of winter and the kids in there were starvin’ and freezin’ ‘cause Snyder never actually took care of anyone. And I didn’t want ta think about anyone dying ‘cause they never got food or were too cold.”

Joseph nods. Contrary to what his daughter may believe, he did read her article about the Refuge and all the first person account stories it included. Being cold and hungry was a common theme. “And the other times?”

The boy is fiddling with his hands now, as if trying to distract himself from what his mind is thinking and mouth is relaying, “First time was ‘cause I was a six year old kid with no home and no parents and he said he had a place I could go. He seemed nice and I went with him. I ran away as soon as I could ‘cause I didn’t do anything wrong so I didn’t see why I couldn’t just leave. Second time was the one I actually deserved, ‘cause I stole the bread and blankets trying to take care of the kids already stuck in there. I was eight. The next times was just ‘cause I ran and the last time was ‘cause, you know.” The boy weakly chuckles, “I mean, ya came and visited me even.” The boy frowns and absentmindedly rubs his throat.

Joseph winces at the memory, which is obviously more painful for Kelly than him. “I believe you’ve answered all my questions Mr. Kelly. I intend to contact the Mayor’s office about what happened in the morning.” The boy gives him a vaguely surprised look. “You may return to my daughter’s side now; I believe you promised her you’d be there when she wakes up.”

The confused look does not drop from the boy’s face, but he stiffly rises from the chair and walks out of the office.

Joseph once again loses himself in his thoughts as he watches Jack Kelly leave to return to his daughter’s side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! As always, comments/suggestions/questions are appreciated and loved!
> 
> If you want to bug me/talk with me/suggest a fic/get semi-periodic fic updates you can find me at my tumblr: https://writing-instead-of-sleeping.tumblr.com


	3. Building

A couple days after _the incident_ , Joseph sits in his favorite deli just down the street from The Sun, awaiting his daughter.  He’d sent a note to be delivered to her desk earlier that morning requesting she join him for lunch.  He’s not received a response, either via messenger, phone call, or telegram.

He hopes she’ll come.  He wants to check in with her, see how she is doing since he last saw her, which was her ushering Kelly out his front door after she’d woken up from her nap the evening after Kelly had been returned to her.  Joseph had tried to insist she stay one more night, but she’d stood in the doorway, arm wrapped around Kelly’s arm, and insisted they go.  The boy had been dead on his feet as they’d stood there and she’d not so discreetly implied that he was the reason they were leaving. 

Joseph nods in acknowledgement as the waiter comes by to deliver the plates, he’d ordered for both him and Katherine, asking the waiter to bring whatever her normal was considering she seemed to frequent the establishment.  He looks curiously at his daughter’s plate, her presumed regular order, a pastrami on rye apparently.  He’s never known her to eat pastrami on rye.

He takes a cursory glance at his own plate to assure that is the correct order before flicking open his newspaper and looking over what his company has put out for the day.  He’s mostly pleased, but makes a note that he should instruct his editors to hire some more talented illustrators; the Sun is pushing out much better comics.  He ignores the voice in the back of his mind that reminds him that the Sun’s comics are getting attention because their best illustrator, Jack Kelly, is a supposed talent.

“What do you want father?” His daughter’s voice rings out from beside him. 

Joseph folds his paper and lays it on the table to the right of his plate before crossing his legs and looking over his daughter.  She’s got her jacket and purse draped over her arm and ink forms unnatural freckles on her hands and wrists.  He can’t say she looks pleased by his invitation to join him for lunch and dark circles, representative of lack of sleep, pillow under her eyes which are currently sending him an emotionless glare.

“I can’t just want to have lunch with my only daughter?” He asks as he gestures with his arm for her to take a seat on the other side of the booth.

Katherine huffs, throws her belongings in to the booth, and slides to sit across from him, arms crossed.  “Not when you’ve pretty much told her you want nothing to do with her unless she leaves the man who makes her happy.”

“And how is Mr. Kelly doing?”  He asks, deciding to dodge her accusation.

“What do you want father?”  Katherine repeats, looking on at him in disdain as he takes a bite of his turkey sandwich.

“I’m simply inquiring after the man who my daughter shares her bed with,” he retorts.

An expression of shock flickers on Katherine’s face before it’s replaced by anger.  “How did – Are you having me followed?!”

Joseph waves off her anger and accusation, “I’ve had my suspicions.  I did not know for sure until now.”  He’s definitely angry at the confirmation, but if he says any more on the subject, he’s sure Katherine will walk away and never look back. 

Katherine crosses her arms in disdain and glares at him, obviously perturbed that she’d fallen in to that trap.

Taking a moment to let his daughter cool off, Joseph takes another bite of his sandwich.  It’s only after a couple minutes, when Katherine finally calms a bit and takes a small bite of her own sandwich that he dares try to speak to her again.  “You never answered my question.”

She takes a moment to finish chewing before snarkly asking, “About Jack?”

Joseph nods as he takes another bite of his sandwich; the bread is too dry he should ask for more mayonnaise. 

Katherine huffs before relaxing her shoulder a bit and losing some of the tension in her face.  Her expression is replaced by one of concern as she comments, “He’s at work sitting in that stupid wooden chair and insisting he do everything he normally does even though _I know_ it’s hurting him.  He’s tried sleeping once, woke up freaking out, and has now decided the best solution is to not sleep at all and keep going until he passes out.”

She pauses, but Joseph senses that she’s not done, so he patiently waits and takes another bite of his sandwich, watching as Katherine fiddles with the end of her braid.

“We were supposed to have lunch with Race today and I was going to ask Race to try and talk to him, but Jack found out you asked me to join you for lunch and insisted I come.” 

Joseph raises an eyebrow at the statement, curious as to why Kelly would insist Katherine join him for lunch over going out with him to see their friend.  Katherine doesn’t seem to notice and continues on anyways.

“So now I’m here and he’s out with Race probably pretending he’s fine,” she concludes.

“And how are you doing Kitty?  You look tired,” he comments, glad to have talk of Kelly over with.

“I’m fine.  Tired, yes, but that’s my fault.  I thought if I threatened to not sleep until Jack did that he’d try sleeping again, but I fell asleep on the couch while watching him paint and he put me to bed – which he shouldn’t have done because I’m sure it hurt him, but I’m too tired to get in to that with him right now.” Katherine stifles a yawn before taking another small bite of her sandwich.

Joseph allows the conversation to stifle while he eats more of sandwich.  The more he hears about Kelly, the more the boy confuses him.  Moving Katherine from the couch to the bed most likely caused him a lot of pain, but he did it anyways, probably without a second thought.  On top of that, he insisted Katherine join him for lunch, despite probably knowing the full extent of how strained their relationship has become and not caring for Joseph much himself. 

Deciding to lighten the conversation, he asks, “Since when do you eat pastrami on rye?  I asked them to bring your regular.  I hope it’s the correct order.”

Katherine plays with the pickle next on the edge of the plate, giving it a disgusted look before answering, “It’s Jack’s favorite and I guess it’s grown on me too.  He eats the pickle though; I still can’t stand them.”

The pair finish the rest of lunch in silence.  Katherine requests a bag for the other half of her sandwich, insisting that, “I’m just not very hungry this afternoon.”  Joseph’s sure the loss of appetite is due to her concern for Kelly, but he doesn’t want to end their lunch on a sour note so he doesn’t mention it.

Once her sandwich is bagged, Katherine wrings her hands together on top of the table and Joseph knows she’s about to ask something he won’t want to answer.

“Father.  I still don’t know why you wanted to see me for lunch today,” she pauses to give him a look telling him not to challenge the statement.  “How much do Jack and I owe you for Dr. Richardson’s visit?  I don’t want –“

Joseph cuts her off, “You do not need to pay me back.  Consider it a favor.”

Katherine squirms in her seat at the mention of it being a favor, so he adds, “Or consider it a gift if you prefer.  I am not asking for anything in return.”  He thinks better of the statement and amends, “except that you continue to have lunch with me every so often.”  He hates to admit that Katherine is right, but her detachment from him and the Pulitzer name has left him very alone and the company of his old friends isn’t always the type he desires.

Katherine still doesn’t look comfortable with the deal but she nods in agreement before looking to the clock on the wall and excusing herself with, “I must be going.  I’ve already stayed longer than I should have.”

Joseph stands to give his daughter an awkward hug before watching her walk out of the deli and back towards the Sun.

 

~~~

 

Knocking on his office door draws Joseph out of his focus on his work. 

“Yes?”  He calls out, wondering what on Earth is needed of him now.  He’s already had several meetings with his editors this morning and was hoping to make it through the rest of the day without any further interruptions.

Hannah pokes her head inside the door to reply, “It’s the young man – Jack Kelly sir.  He’s here and he’s asked to see you.”  She gives him a curious look that he chooses to ignore.  His family business is nothing she needs to be aware of.

“Send him up,” he orders and Hannah closes the door.  He can hear her heels clicking back down the hallway.

Joseph pushes down his own curiosity about the boy’s request and tries to get a few more moments of work in before the boy arrives.

A few minutes later a softer knocking at his office door interrupts him.  Joseph takes a moment to clean his desk, lean back, and compose himself before calling, “Come in.”

The door slowly opens just enough for Kelly to squeeze through.  There’s a large, slim, rectangular package that he pulls through after him that he leans against his hip before softly shutting the door.  He turns to meet Joseph’s gaze and walks over towards his desk, package in tow. 

Joseph takes the moment to look over the boy once again.  It’s been just over a week since the incident and he’s looking different, not exactly better, but different.  The boy’s eyes are dark with exhaustion and he’s still holding himself stiffly, no doubt still bothered by his injuries.  However, his front seems to have returned, an awkward smile once again splashed across his face and a confident glint in his eyes. 

Joseph gestures to the chair across from him and commands, “take a seat.”

Kelly looks uncomfortable with the request, but does as requested and takes a seat, carefully leaning the package up against the edge of the desk to his right.  Joseph looks at the thing curiously, wondering what could possibly be hidden inside, but pushes the curiosity aside to focus on the boy in front of him

Joseph crosses a leg over the other and clasps his hands in his lap.  “So what can I do for you today Mr. Kelly?”

The boy awkwardly rubs at the back of his neck before meeting Joseph’s gaze and saying, “A- Katherine said that you didn’t want us to repay you for Dr. Richardson looking me over and I wanted to ask you myself in case you just didn’t want to burden Katherine.”  The boy speaks slowly and carefully, almost sounding rehearsed.

Joseph is taken aback by the boy’s thought and goes to respond, but is cut off by the boy.

“And thank you.  I should have started with that, but thank you for getting me out,” Kelly tacks on, still speaking carefully.

“Your welcome Mr. Kelly.  I’m sure Katherine would have found a way to get you out sooner than later if I hadn’t stepped in, but my stepping in assured that she stayed safe at my house for the evening.”  Joseph pauses before addressing the boy’s initial question, “And no, what I said to Katherine stands; though I do appreciate you coming to see me yourself.”

The boy rubs at the back of his neck again, displaying the ink splashed across the bottom of his sleeves, which are loosely buttoned around his wrists.  “Well, um thank you.  We – I appreciate that.”  He returns his hand to his lap to fiddle with a piece of lint on his pant leg before returning his gaze to meet Joseph’s.  “I also want to say thank you for taking her away from the officers and keeping her safe, like you said.  I can’t – don’t want to imagine her being there with me, even if she says that’s where she’d want to be.”

“I’m was simply doing my job as her father, Mr. Kelly,” Joseph responds quickly, taken aback by the implication that he would ever do anything different and Katherine’s statement that she’d rather be taken to the prison with the boy.

“Still, that meant a lot to me; knowing she was safe,” the boy responds slowly.  “And I know you and her have been arguing about me, even if she doesn’t tell me that much.”

Once again stupefied by the boy’s statement, Joseph takes a moment to once again compose himself before asking what’s been on his mind since he had lunch with Katherine earlier in the week, “Mr. Kelly, why did you insist Katherine join me for lunch instead of joining you and your friend?”

A splash of color flashes on the boy’s cheeks before he replies, “Well, like I said, I know that you and Katherine haven’t been on the best terms lately and I don’t want her to give you up over me.  Until you say you don’t want to see her anymore, I’ll keep telling her she should go and see you.”  The boy looks bashfully down at his shoes.

“And why is that Mr. Kelly?  I can’t imagine why you would tell her such a thing when I’ve never paid you much mind,” Joseph asks, legitimately curious as to what the boy’s reasoning could possibly be.

Kelly chuckles before responding, “Well you just saved me from the bulls, so you’ve paid me some mind.”  When Joseph doesn’t return the boy’s playful turn, the smile fades from his face and he continues, “Well, I don’t like the idea of Katherine giving up her family over me.  I’ve told her as much, but I don’t think she understands and I’m not the one good with words so maybe I’m just not explaining myself all right.”

The boy has piqued Joseph’s curiosity now, “And what doesn’t my daughter understand?”

The boy’s face flashes with fear and he quickly spits out, “No – no.  It ain’t her.  I’s sure it’s me.”

“I wasn’t implying otherwise Mr. Kelly,” Joseph amends, a bit shocked by how the boy took his words.

The boy looks to the floor again and rubs at his neck before looking back up and continuing, “Oh.  Sorry.  I- It’s just-“ he exhales and runs a hand through his hair.  “I don’t remember my parents, not really.  I mean, I have the boys and they’re pretty much my brothers, but it’s not the same.  I’d like to think that no matter what type of people my folks were I’d still try and see them every now and then if they were still around.  Because they’re family.  And you’re still here, and even if Katherine’s mad at you I don’t want her to cut you off because family’s important and you can’t really replace it.”

That was not what Joseph was expecting.  He clarifies, “You understand the reason Katherine is mad at me is because I’ve told her I do not appreciate her stepping out with you and have ordered her to stop, correct?”

The boy winces, but doesn’t look away.  “Yeah, I know,” he whispers.  “But you’re still her family.”

The room is filled with silence as both its occupants lose themselves in thought.

“I do appreciate your efforts Mr. Kelly,” Joseph starts.

The boy whips his head upwards and looks at him, confusion clearly written across his features.

“And I mean that for both protecting her from threats she had not made me aware of and for insisting she continue to speak with me.”  Joseph picks up a pen from its holder and fiddles with it, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation’s direction.  “I will always be concerned for my daughter’s best interests and her continued safety, even if she may not appreciate how I show it. 

The boy chuckles again, “I think we’ve found something in common Joe.”

Joseph does not humor the boy, “Yes, it seems we have.” 

Upon not having his humor reciprocated, the smile drops from the boy’s face again and he looks to the floor.  “Oh, um, before I go-“the boy stands and grips at the package he’d brought in with him, “If you are going to insist paying for Dr. Richardson to fix me up is a gift, then I have a gift for you myself.” 

Kelly carefully looks to Joseph for permission, to which Joseph nods, before lifting the package on to Joseph’s desk and stepping back.

“I made it.  I hope you like it – Katherine said you used to say your least favorite part of the newspaper business was being in your office all day and missing the sunrise, so I thought I’d paint you some.”  He takes another step back and watches Joseph for a moment while uncomfortably rubbing his neck. 

Joseph doesn’t respond, for once at a loss of words – a rare and deadly thing to someone in the newspaper business, instead gazing down at the package wrapped in brown paper laying across his desk.

The boy clears his throat hesitantly and Joseph doesn’t look up, but he hears, “Ace – Katherine wrapped it for me.  That’s all her.”

Joseph makes quick work of undoing his daughter’s handiwork, ripping off the brown paper encasing the canvas.  What he finds underneath is an astonishing painting of a sunrise over the New York skyline, the light the perfect mixture of reds and yellows and orange to represent the fiery life of the city it encompasses.

When he looks up to thank the boy for the gift, he finds him attempting to leave, blocked from leaving by a gawking Hannah standing in the open door.  Kelly turns to look at Joseph, embarrassment coloring his face, “Uh, thank you for seeing me Mr. Pulitzer.  I’m going to go back to work now.”  He turns back to the exit to find his path still blocked by an oblivious Hannah.

Joseph clears his throat and Hannah jumps, apparently startled, before stepping aside enough for the boy to get through.  Before the boy can disappear, Joseph calls, “Thank you Mr. Kelly.”  The boy nods in response before hastily finishing his retreat.

Joseph returns his gaze to the painting, astonished by the boy’s natural apparent natural talent.  He hears Hannah’s heels clicking to his side to take in the painting better.

“Oh, that young man’s got talent.  Very polite too.  No wonder Katherine cares for him so much,” Hannah blurts out, her voice draining Joseph’s patience.

“Out,” he growls and Hannah’s heels click out of the room, followed by the door slamming shut.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it doesn't end on a super conclusive "everything all good now" note, but now at least Pulitzer's not outright objecting to Jack, right? And they have an established relationship formed for future stories.
> 
> Thank you for reading! As always, comments/suggestions/questions are appreciated and loved!
> 
> If you want to bug me/talk with me/suggest a fic/get semi-periodic fic updates you can find me at my tumblr: https://writing-instead-of-sleeping.tumblr.com


End file.
